


Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

by thanatopis



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Name-Calling, Rimming, don't worry they're both into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: The holidays are an uneventful time for Jason Todd.With nothing better to do, Jason makes an ad offering his "services" to any poor soul who wants to spend Thanksgiving with him. He can be that obnoxious boyfriend your parents hate, and his only payment? Food.There's one catch: he never expected anyone to seriously answer back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off the "Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?" Craigslist ad where an ex-felon [offers to be your boyfriend to piss off your parents.](http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2849844/Ex-felon-offers-Craiglist-worst-possible-Thanksgiving-date-promises-propose-family-start-fight-lawn.html)
> 
> I've been working on this story on and off since 2015 and just recently renewed my interest in it. I only expect it to be three chapters at most.

Jason had put the ad out on Clara’s List half as a joke, half as a blatant cry for help. He needed someone— _anyone_ —to intervene into his life and ask the one question he’d been asking ever since he found himself in the back of a cop car for drug possession at twenty.

_What the hell are you doing with your life Jason Todd?_

It was funny because Jason would’ve told anyone who asked to fuck right the hell off, but the question remained a valid one. The answer would’ve probably involved a lazy nod to his pal Roy Harper, but Jason was self-aware enough to recognize the influence was a two-way street.

Roy was the best friend a guy like Jason could have in this dog-eat-dog world. What started as mutual distain transformed into begrudging respect, changed further into chummy fondness. Of course, Jason wasn’t going to deny that having sex with Roy had helped smooth out their hostility and hesitance towards one another. Somewhere in the middle, they just happened to realize that they worked better as friends than lovers.

However, there had been no love lost between them; the talk had been straight forward and painless. Roy had even given Jason a noogie afterwards, which Jason had told him never to do again lest he lose his hands.

From there, things moved on effortlessly.

On the outskirts of Gotham, Jason woke and groggily made his way to the kitchen.

Today’s balanced breakfast was leftover pepperoni pizza that Jason ate straight from the box, cold. His shitty one-bedroom apartment wasn’t in the safest neighborhood; police sirens and gunshots where white noise Jason fell asleep to as he laid in bed. Jason had been born on these streets; he’d played their savage games and proudly bared their scars of a life he’d willingly left behind. The rules were simple: keep your gaze ahead, don’t bother no one, and keep your mouth shut. If you did that, you were golden, and a whole lot smarter than most.

Roy was from Star City, but ghettos where all the same, so he fit in just fine.

Jason ate slowly by the window, peering up at the gray sky that was threatening to fall.

It was getting colder with each passing day. Soon enough, Jason would officially have to retire his bike into storage for the winter. It was a bummer—not being able to feel the city passing by him like individual particles moving along his skin as he lost himself within the roar of the wind.

Jason’s mood soured.

This time of year, in general, was just depressing as hell. The holidays were fast approaching, and the list of relatives Jason loved was a very short list, consisting of his late mother and Roy. Thanksgiving and Christmas for the last couple of years had been spent with Roy.

It was kind of pathetic when Jason thought about it.

He voiced this concern to Roy, who was just waking up himself, nursing a cup of coffee. Roy didn’t seem to be too disturbed by it. His dad was a pretentious tool, Roy said, like it was the only explanation he needed. Jason could sympathize. His own had been a rotten bastard right down to his very core.

Good riddance, he vaguely thought.

It was after two heartburn inducing slices of pepperoni that Roy offhandedly mentioned the Clara’s List ad idea, burping the loudest belches in-between that had Jason cringing at the god-awful smell.

Jason had scoffed initially, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking it black. He took a sip as he lifted an exasperated brow over the rim at Roy. His friend had an easy smile on his face, hair tied back in a loose pony tail. Roy fell back onto the crummy couch that Jason’s foster mother had gifted him once he told her he had a place of his own and planned to move out after graduation.

The olive green corduroy couch had seen better days, that was for damn sure.

“No, I’m serious Jay,” Roy began, scratching absentmindedly at his balls.

Jason made a face.

“It’s not only us that find the holidays completely unbearable. Of course, there’s a variety of different reasons as to why.” Roy paused, gesturing with his hand to make a point as he took a sip of his coffee. “Anyways—there are people out there that can’t _stand_ the idea of spending time with their family. Imagine that. There has to be like, a huge demand for people that need dates or whatever because their parents keep pestering them about when they’re finally gonna get some grandbabies? I say we give the people what they want and corner this emerging market.”

Jason thought the idea sounded ridiculous and just the kind of shit Roy would seriously think about in that wacky, yet brilliant head of his. Despite how absurd, there was some part of Jason that found the idea…a little amusing. Just a little.

Jason snorted loudly.

“So like, what?” Jason asked, skeptical, “make an ad saying I can be their stand-in boyfriend for a day? What do I get outta that though?”

Roy made a face like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He threw his hands up, sloshing his coffee dangerously inside his mug. He looked at Jason like he was the daft one in this relationship. Ha.

“Uh, duh,” Roy’s eyes went passionately wide. “You get to eat free food and charge by the hour, Jaybird,” Roy explained, grinning widely. “If it all goes well, you can count on Christmas dinner too when they invite you back.” It was laughable as hell—how triumphant Roy looked as he leaned back against the couch, pleased with himself. The idiot.

Jason rolled his eyes.

He looked down at his lap in contemplation, only taking a moment to himself to think about Roy’s proposal before he shrugged a _why-the-fuck-not_ and retrieved his laptop from his room. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time. If nothing else, it would kill a few hours.

Jason slinked up next to Roy, making the other man begrudgingly move because Roy was sitting in his preferred spot. He typed the shtick Roy fed him in between boughs of uncontrollable laughter, having to stop whenever the tremors became too much for him to handle. His shoulders shook, and his stomach ached, being tensed for so long. He covered his face with his hands, eyes watering as he gasped and occasionally hiccupped on a giggle.

Roy had stopped teasing him about the quirk ages ago.

“Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad? Your solution is right here.” Roy reiterated, trying his best to kill Jason with the ridiculous tone his voice took. “I can do these things at your request:” Roy snickered; it was getting to him too. “Openly hit on other guests—I’m not really picky—all the while, you pretend not to notice; Propose to you in front of _everyone_ and declare my undying love, telling the story of how we met at a pro-choice abortion rally; Pick a fight with any family member of your choosing—but please—realistic battle options. I’m buff—buff as hell—but I’m no Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson; I can also pretend to have loud, soul fulfilling sex with you in the closest bathroom if your parents are bothering you about kids, but I guess that doesn’t really work if you’re a dude, but still, the option is on the table—”

“Stop, stop, stop—holy shit,” Jason was gasping. “You fucking asshole—I can’t breathe.”

Jason had to remove the laptop off his lap lest it fall to the floor. He doubled over in laughter so hard and intense it had tears spilling from the corner of his eyes.

Roy, that bastard, was grinning ear-to-ear.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Jason gasped, clutching at his stomach, and only then did Roy crumble into his own hilarious fit of giggles, green eyes incredibly bright.

_I’ll suck my own goddamn dick if someone replies to this._

Without another thought, Jason submitted the add and slammed his laptop shut as he and Roy decided to watch _The Goonies_ for the umpteenth time. They fondly repeated their favorite lines verbatim and sang their hearts out when Cindi Lauper’s ‘The Goonies 'R' Good Enough’ made a cameo.

The day passed and throughout, Jason found himself laughing over the ridiculous ad even as he went to bed for the night.

No one is going to reply, Jason thought.

No one was that desperate.

 

 

His name was Richard Grayson.

“Holy shit.” Roy was awestruck as he looked at the profile picture of one dark haired, blue eyed looker.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man that fucking attractive in my entire life—and I’ve been with _a lot_ of guys Jason. _Goddamn_.” Roy whistled low. He stilled then, warily side-eyeing his best friend. “No offense to you Jay—you know you’re a hunk—but damn, that guy is on a whole different level.”

Jason couldn’t even find it in himself to be offended that Roy had just insinuated that he was a second-rate beefcake.

A _looker_ was exactly what mystery man was. He was Jason’s type to a T; the kind of man he would sacrifice his pride for, but this was the internet, and dude wasn’t fooling anyone with this catfish shit.

Jason shook his head with doubt, teeth clicking.

“I’m being trolled,” Jason began, “this is probably some gross forty-something that fucks balloon animals.” Even so, Jason’s eyes remained on the picture, lingering and admiring the lines of the mystery man’s face. It was probably a random stock photo of some model—because _god_ —did he have the 1000-watt smile down pat.

He vowed to Google whoever the hell this guy was and save some of his photos. You know, for when Jason needed some inspiring fantasy material for his wank bank. It had been two months since he’d gotten laid. Two long months, and it hadn’t seemed so obvious until now.

“At least see what he messaged you,” Roy chipped in, sounding embarrassingly eager. It wasn’t a huge surprise that Roy was thinking with his dick instead of the rational part of his brain, but even Jason was finding himself increasingly curious.

“It even says he’s still online.” Roy added softly, prodding Jason lightly on his arm in an annoyingly insistent way.

Jason sighed, scrubbing tiredly at his chin. “Roy...c’mon man, we are not down to fuck, okay?”

Roy laughed. “Speak for yourself, Jaybird. I’d be that man’s sitting bench if he asked me nicely.”

Jason snorted loudly.

He gave in and clicked on the stranger’s private message, already preparing for the worst, like a gross dick pic or something as equally appalling. He was surprised when no such thing appeared.

Jason read the short message aloud with an air of bewildered awe.

> I’m taking a shot out in the dark here. I hope you’re not some crazed person who lives in his mom’s basement, or worse, some bored fourteen-year-old (and if you _are_ fourteen, what are you doing on Clara’s List? Go outside and play kickball or something, jeez.)
> 
> If you are serious about attending my family function, I would be interested in meeting at whatever time is most convenient for you, to you know, make sure you’re not going to murder me or my family when you meet them. Not saying that you aren’t a decent person in real life! You probably are! You just can’t be too careful these days, you know?
> 
> Please feel free to message me with any questions or concerns.
> 
> -Richard J. Grayson.

Roy blinked at the screen slowly, turning his head towards Jason with wide eyes.

“Oh man…”

Jason knew what he meant, but he didn’t want to believe it.

“Roy, no one looking for a random stand-in is _that_ wholesome, okay? Or pretty, for one…” Jason murmured dubiously, trying to rationalize it to himself. He gestured wildly at the computer screen. “I mean really—look at this fucker! He probably has some amazing filter or whatever. You know, that Instagram shit the kids are into these days.”

Roy huffed. He wasn’t buying it. He gave Jason a pointed look that seemed to say, ‘really Jay? An Instagram filter to explain that fucking gorgeous face?’

Roy made a thoughtful noise, shifting.

“Doesn’t that name sound a bit familiar to you? I swear I’ve heard it somewhere before…”

Jason shook his head. “No. I mean—besides all the people whose names are _Richard_ , dumbass.”

Roy gave him the middle finger, frowning. “Oh, fuck you _smartass_.”

Jason chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows lavishly in a way he knew people found charming as hell.

“Oh, been there and done that. Come up with something more original next time, bud.”

 

 

Jason and Richard decided to meet at a café fifteen minutes away from Jason’s apartment on a good day. Traffic was bearable as Jason rode his Ducati uptown, delighting in the sun and the wind.

It was the first time Gotham wasn’t raining since early October it felt.

Jason wasn’t sure what to expect to be honest. His nerves and anxiety mounted higher and higher the closer he got. It had been less than 48 hours since they’d messaged each other, agreeing on a decent time and place to meet. In-between, Jason had gone back and forth between meeting this stranger and forgoing the plan altogether.

The sweet little modest café wasn’t part of Jason’s normal hang outs. Not by a long shot. Even if he went to a café for some coffee, he had never actually _sat_ down in one, so this was a first. The café was bougie; it had an air about it that would’ve made Jason feel insecure and inferior if he’d been younger. He knew now that these people didn’t determine his worth. Only he could do that.

It didn’t stop Jason from feeling like he stood out like a sore thumb with his frayed motor cycle jacket, combat boots, and helmet tucked under his arm as he grabbed a table. Jason noticed now with rising horror that he had dressed more for a night out than a casual afternoon brunch. There was no changing now. It wasn’t like he was at a job interview…only it kind of was.

Jason was early. The decision was deliberate. He had always been a sucker for punctuality. Arriving early gave Jason enough time to scope out the venue and calm his anxiety some. It was comforting, knowing where his escape routes were if he needed to use them.

Jason ordered a coffee, black, two sugars, and flirted harmlessly with the blonde barista who giggled and blushed whenever Jason smiled at her. Sliding a five into the tip jar, Jason waved farewell as the waitress moved onto the next customer.

When Jason turned back around, that was when he saw him.

In a move straight out of a cheesy romantic comedy, Jason—mortifyingly enough—almost dropped his coffee all over himself because it was Richard Grayson, looking _exactly_ like his profile picture depicted him but just— _more_.

Richard walked into the shop, looking windblown, his cheeks flushed from the early November chill despite having on a thick dark blue knit sweater. His hair was perfectly layered and quaffed, dark enough to look almost blue in the right light—and _shit_ —Jason must’ve been staring like an idiot, like everyone else in the café who could appreciate a good-looking man when they saw one.

Richard’s gaze swung around the café, no doubt looking for Jason, and his eyes lit up in recognition when they landed on him. Jason swore his heart skipped a beat before battering wildly inside his chest.

What the utter fuck, Jason thought, trying not to panic.

Jason’s own profile picture wasn’t of himself. He didn’t believe in giving the goodies right off the bat, but Jason’s dress was an automatic giveaway. His profile picture was of his Ducati, in predictable fuck-boy fashion, but that’s where the similarities ended fortunately.

Richard walked up to him, smiling pleasantly.

“Ah,” He said. “You must be Mr. Todd.”

The way the syllable of his last name came off the tip of Richard’s tongue made Jason shiver pleasantly, but instantly reminded him of his deadbeat father, still rotting in a prison cell a couple of hours upstate.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me.” Jason floundered uncharacteristically, sounding just about as dumb as the add that got him in this predicament. “ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Jason murmured under his breath, clearing his throat and Richard ushered an amused, breathy laugh. “I mean—just Jason is fine. Mr. Todd makes me sound like an old man, and I’m still spry and—”

Jason realized he was well on his way to rambling Richard’s ear off and immediately shut up, extending his hand in a quick motion. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Richard said nearly the same, shaking Jason’s hand with a firm grip. Jason’s curiosity rose as he felt well-worn callouses brush against his skin. Jason led them over to the table that he’d reserved with his helmet, pushing it off to the side as they sat down.

“Uh, do you want anything?” Jason asked, gesturing to the display of sweets and lunch sandwiches despite their outrageous price. He felt compelled to treat him.

“I should be asking you that,” Richard said. “I’m the one who asked you here after all.”

Jason shrugged, shifting his gaze to the side, feeling oddly flustered. “It’s no big. I ate before I came here, so...”

“Oh, that’s good,” Richard said, “but if you change your mind…” He drifted off, leaving them in fragile silence. Jason couldn’t bare it.

“Richard,” Jason floundered, “that’s a nice name.” He finished lamely

Groaning internally, Jason wondered how many times he would embarrass himself in front of this man today. Something in Richard’s eyes gleamed at the reaching comment, but Jason wanted to punch himself squarely in the face because he was acting like this was his first goddamn rodeo.

“Just Dick is fine. That’s what everyone calls me; family and friends alike,” Dick smiled pleasantly. “Richard is only used when people are mad at me and throwing things at my head.”

The laugh was out of Jason’s mouth before he could even quiet it. He didn’t mean too, honestly it was just—

“God, least your last name isn’t ‘Johnson’ or ‘Hancock’.” Jason snickered, making an even bigger ass of himself. He was on a role today apparently. _Splendid_.

Dick didn’t look all that that peeved by the comment.

He took it well with a small, knowing smile and light shrug as if to say he was used to it. Jason thought he would have to be if that’s what they were calling him in school. _God_ , Jason bet the kids were little shits with that name. The liberties it allowed for—and all the _jokes_. Jason just _knew_ he would’ve been Dick’s number one heckler in middle school, but maybe not for all the typical reasons.

“Sorry, I’m a dick— _fuck_ , that’s not what I—” Jason hanged his head, sighing. “I just need to stop talking.”

Dick’s laughter eased him a bit. The sound was nice to listen to and, after a bit of hesitancy, made Jason laugh too. That seemed to ease the tension between them.

“Really, honestly, I’m sorry. I haven’t had my morning coffee yet. It makes me less of an ass—usually.” Jason gestured to his Americano, taking his first sip and was pleasantly surprised.

Sitting across from him, Dick’s eyes crinkled fondly.

“This place has some of the best brews; smooth and nutty. Taste like heaven.”

Something Jason noticed immediately about Dick was that he had a kind of grace that Jason found extremely magnetic. He moved easily and confidently like the world moved for him instead of the other way around. It was incredibly sexy, that poise. His eyes lingered over every inch of Dick that was visible to him, his gaze like honey.

Jason licked his lips, savoring the rich taste on his tongue. He saw Dick’s eyes follow the motion and spread his thighs wider underneath the table, his knee knocking into Dick’s own.

“You like it?” Dick asked, light. It sounded like he was asking something else.

He didn’t move his leg, but instead pushed into the touch.

Jason brushed the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip in a smooth move, sucking the taste from his skin.

“It’s good. Probably the best I’ve ever had.”

Dick’s eyes flashed, gleaming bright. He subtly shifted closer.

“Glad to hear it.”

It was obvious to Jason in that moment that they were inevitably going to end up in bed together. Dick was throwing signs left and right, and Jason sure as hell wasn’t being subtle with his interest either.

It would have to wait, however. They had a deal to broker.

Jason cleared his throat, breaking the searing eye contact he’d managed to maintain with Dick without bursting into flames.

“First off, I just want to be upfront and let you know that my friend and I put that add up solely as a joke,” Jason explained. “I didn’t think anyone would seriously answer it, but if you’re in a bit of a rut, I’ll help you out.”

Dick was amused by this.

He set his elbow on the table, cradling his head in the palm of his hand. “To be honest, I answered on a whim. I wasn’t expecting much either, but that add was hilarious. I showed my little brother and he thought I was insane for humoring you, but—I don’t know—I just really needed something silly and absurd in that moment—maybe even more so now…” Dick trailed off.

Jason nodded his head in understanding. There was weight in that statement.

“Do you come from a super religious family or something?” Jason asked, curious. “Are you rebelling and the reality of that has them clutching at their bibles and speaking in tongues, hoping to reform their little boy?”

Dick huffed a laugh. He shook his head.

“No, but I feel like that would almost be easier.” He sighed wistfully.

Dick gave Jason a look he couldn’t decipher. It was probing and deep, watching for something Jason couldn’t name. His brow quirked with a question.

“What is it?” Jason asked, shifting in his seat. “Do I have something on my face?”

Dick’s tone was wonderous; those big baby blues wide with whatever had him in a state of awe.

“This is unexpected,” Dick murmured to himself. He narrowed his eyes at Jason, suspicious. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Who my father is.”

Jason shrugged. “Unless he’s some big drug kingpin whose gonna kill me, should I?”

He’d trap for guys like Roman Sionis back when money was tight, selling dime and quarter bags of coke, weed, and LSD. It would’ve been ironic if Dick was a son of a former employer, but that was unlikely. Those brats had a certain vitriolic and entitled air about them, and they sure as hell didn’t dress as nice as Dick did.

There was nothing to worry about.

“Bruce Wayne,” Dick said, finally. “My father is Bruce Wayne.”

 

 

There was a second where Jason thought he had misheard Dick.

“Uh, excuse me?”

Dick blinked. “Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is my father.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, winded.

Oh, Roy was gonna love this. He’d been right.

It seemed self-evident now—the aspect of Dick’s face that immediately dawned as familiar. Jason had seen Dick vaguely in passing; at the grocery store, his face emblazoned on trashy tabloid magazines; on the local television news Jason put on as white noise because sometimes the quiet of his apartment made him go a little stir crazy.

It was true. Dick was Wayne’s adopted son. The son of the Flying Grayson’s trio. The one who’d lost his parents in that tragic accident at Haly’s Traveling Circus years ago. The one who was being groomed no doubt to take over Wayne’s business when he surely retired.

Knowing the billionaire’s antics, that would probably be any day now.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jason breathed.

 

 

It was surreal, walking side by side with Dick Grayson in Memorial Park on an uncharacteristically sunny day in Gotham. It was impossible not to notice Dick, and passersby stared at the pair of them until they drifted out of sight.

“God, how do you stand that?” Jason asked around a mouthful of his chili-dog, taking pains not to spill the deliciousness down the front of his shirt. People were shameless with it, blatantly snapping pictures, not even bothering to ask Dick if it was okay. Jason glared at them on Dick’s behalf.

Dick shrugged. “I’m used to it. For me, it’s just another part of the day.” He was nursing a hot dog smothered in coleslaw, which was the only flaw Jason could find with him at the current moment.

He’d good-naturedly gave Dick shit for it as the street vendor piled on the offending condiment. _There’s absolutely nothing wrong with coleslaw. I’m tired of being shamed for my love of it_ , Dick had said, taking a big, defiant bite when the man handed his over. Jason fondly watched him chew with relish. He made a move to reach for his wallet, but before he could even get a hand inside his pocket, Dick fished out a twenty and handed it to the vendor. _Best frank I’ve had in a long time, man. Keep it up and keep the change. Thanks._

It was courteous shit like that that was going to get Jason into trouble. Damn, was Dick charming as hell.

“So,” Jason began around a mouthful, “give me the deets. Why are you trying to piss off daddy dearest with a useless scrub?”

The fact that said dad was Bruce Wayne was still throwing Jason for a wide loop. He’d grown up hearing about Wayne’s exploits as a kid; his trips to exotic islands; his many mishaps with indecent exposure; his fancy cars that he just gave away because he could. As a child, Bruce Wayne hadn’t seemed real. He wondered what he would do with so much money and his head threatened to explode.

“I’m not mad at him,” Dick said. Jason gave him a pointed look, arguing the truth of that statement. “No, really. It’s just—ever since I was nine, my future was set out for me. I mean, being Bruce Wayne’s heir, you’d assume his kid would want to follow in his footsteps, and in some ways, I have…” Jason was positive Dick meant his illustrious love life. It was the tabloids favorite thing to report on, besides Dick’s ass.

Dick’s eyes were sheepish when he turned to look up at Jason, as if he was self-conscious about the type of person Jason might’ve thought he was.

“Not all of it was true, mind you, but it’s exhausting—all that blind expectation of what my future holds. I want to prove people wrong…”

Jason could empathize with Dick’s position, of course, his wasn’t on the same kind of grand scale. He remembered his father, in his drunken stupors, yelling about how Jason wouldn’t amount to anything. How he was destined for a life of destitute, and Jason had believed it until he simply didn’t anymore.

“What about your brother?” Jason asked.

Dick smiled, closed lipped. There was a softness to his following words: “Tim has other interests, and I wouldn’t be a good brother if I just passed on the responsibility to him because I didn’t want it.”

“I know this might seem like a dumbass question, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why can’t you tell Bruce you don’t want it?”

“I can’t tell him because I’m too much of a chicken-shit,” Dick explained, “and I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Their conversation lapsed into one of silence.

They passed underneath a canopy of golden, red, and green trees as a light breeze swept through. The disturbance rustled the leaves and displaced them, where they swayed down onto the park floor, crunching loudly underneath the sole of Jason’s boot.

The silence weighed on him.

“I’m sorry,” Dick apologized quickly, noticing the change in mood and wanting to rectify it. “An impromptu therapy session in the park wasn’t what I was aiming for. You’re probably like, ‘listen to this rich boy complain about how hard his life is and—blah, blah, blah.’” He mimicked Jason’s steady baritone. “I promise I’m not this full of myself.”

Jason nudged Dick with his shoulder, hoping to show that he wasn’t judging and that he was supportive.

“Don’t apologize. Your issues aren’t worth less than anybody else’s. Doesn’t matter where you come from.” He hadn’t always believed that. He’d trivialized rich people’s problems, equating them to nothing, but getting to know Roy had introduced Jason to a range of hardships. “I’m just glad I could help. It seemed like you needed a good ear.”

Dick hummed his agreement. He turned to Jason, thoughtful.

“You know, you weren’t what I was expecting—at all.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t worry,” Dick teased. His eyes were shining playfully. “It’s a good thing. For one, you are…” The tone of his voice was mystified as it trailed off into a silent lull.

Jason grinned ear-to-ear. “I’m what?”

Dick cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to something faraway. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jason needled. For the life of him, he couldn’t stop smiling.

He grasped Dick gently by his forearm, making them both come to a stop as they faced each other. “What am I? Come on, I want to know.”

Dick blew out a breath. He looked exasperated, but despite this, he humored Jason anyway.

“You’re surprisingly normal, okay. And nice. You’re really nice,” There was a faint blush blooming over Dick’s cheeks. He appeared unsure for the first time since Jason had met him. “I wasn’t expecting— _this_ —when I answered that add, but I’m glad I did— _really_ glad.”

Dragging his teeth over his bottom lip in a slow crawl, Jason’s gaze dissected every aspect of Dick’s face.

In that moment, Jason debated taking Dick’s face in-between his hands and stroking over his cheekbones softly with the pads of his thumbs, kissing him how he deserved to be kissed. It seemed rash—the impulse—when they’d only met hours before, but every part of Jason was intrinsically attracted to Dick. However, the need to be respectful of Dick’s boundaries, subsided the urge.

Instead, Jason brushed a lock of Dick’s hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. His fingers lingered and a tingling sensation akin to anticipation raced up Jason’s spine, throbbing in tandem to the beat of his heart.

 _What are you doing to me?_ Jason thought wildly.

There was no sane answer for it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason meets the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, here we go! I hope you guys enjoy.

The ride home passed in a whirlwind of fluorescent lights and the roar of his Ducati streaking across the landscape. Jason exuded just enough attention not to cause a wreck as he weaved in-between traffic and flew down the freeway at break-neck speed. His thoughts were preoccupied with how the day had unexpectedly progressed; meeting Dick and spending most of the day with him.

They had eaten dinner at a local whole-in-the-wall Pizzeria; a place both Jason and Dick were fans of and regularly gave their business to. When the pizza had been earnestly devoured, they both decided to call it a night. Jason had work in the morning and Dick was due at Wayne Enterprises first thing for a meeting he could’ve cared less about.

The evening breeze cut into Jason as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, their bellies full. He zipped up his jacket, then rubbed his hands together, hoping to gain some heat from the friction.

“This was fun,” Dick had said, turning to Jason. He looked beautiful in the low light and Jason was taken aback by the very sight of him. It was then Jason remembered, in proper social situations, he was supposed to respond. Dick was watching him knowingly; a small, shy smile breaking over his face.

“Uh, yeah,” he swallowed, heavy, scratching at the back of his neck. “We should do it again.”

Dick hummed.

Reaching for his back pocket, Dick grabbed his phone. They exchanged numbers with Dick’s promise that he would text Jason the contact info about where he needed to be on Thanksgiving.

Oh. Yeah.

Jason had almost forgotten the whole purpose of this meeting. His smiled faltered a bit, but he quickly recovered.

“I’ll be as horrible as one deadbeat sugar baby can be.”

Dick appeared shocked before his expression crumbled and he erupted into loud, colorful laughter.

The sound stayed with Jason all the way home, warming him from the inside out.

 

 

Roy was still at Jason’s place by the time he walked through the front door. He was eating Chinese take-out and watching some trashy reality TV Jason didn’t have the time for as he collapsed onto the sofa, snagged the remote, and pushed the power button. It was a relief when the sounds of the city became discernable again.

“Where have you been?” Roy asked, slurping down some greasy noodles.

“Don’t you have your own place?” Jason asked, exhausted. It felt like Roy spent more time at Jason’s place than Jason did himself. He gave Roy shit for it, but in truth, he didn’t mind in the least bit. If he was honest, it was nice to have someone to come home to.

Jason nearly panicked at the image the thought inspired; the serene face of a man who was light years out of his league, and surely not thinking about him at this very moment. Sighing heavily, Jason leaned his head back onto the crest roll of his shitty olive-green couch, staring up at a water stain on the ceiling.

It took a full minute before Jason spoke.

“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had, man.”

Roy perked up. You could practically see his ears stand at attention.

“Spill.”

The words fell free. Jason told Roy about the meeting, how his own hunch had been correct about recognizing Dick, how they’d walked through Memorial Park and talked about anything and everything, and how they’d ended the night at Sal’s Pizza.

“Holy shit. I totally knew it,” Roy said excitedly. “We met like, _way_ back in the day at some party both of our dads were attending. Oliver and Bruce never liked each other, and I was prepared to hate Dickie too, but he was a nice kid. I remember he made that night bearable.” It was the only time Jason ever heard Roy speak fondly about his past.

Jason’s brow quirked, curious.

“You guys didn’t keep in touch?”

Roy sadly shook his head.

“Nah, we lived in different cities and we were young. It probably didn’t help that Oliver and Bruce hated each other, so they never tried to attend the same parties. Petty rich people shit.”

Frowning, Jason said, “That sucks man.”

Roy shrugged, carefree. “It’s alright Jay, life happens. Glad to know he’s doing well.”

Jason continued to watch the water stain as the conversation drifted into comfortable silence. His brain was still trying to process what he’d willingly volunteered for.

Soon, Jason was going to meet Bruce Wayne. He was going to sit down with the man at his dinner table, eat his food, and pretend to be every parent’s worse nightmare when it came to their children’s choice of romantic partners.

Jason grinned. Thanksgiving couldn’t come soon enough.

 

 

The grounds of the manor were sprawling, surrounded with birch and oak trees that had to at least be a hundred years old. Jason drove along the unpaved road; it was flat enough not to have him bouncing all over the place. The setting sun was cutting through the trees, highlighting the burnished golds, oranges, and reds that colored the leaves. The scenery could’ve been a painting, Jason thought.

Gotham in November was cool and crisp; refreshing in how the wind caressed over Jason’s face like a kiss. He scratched absentmindedly at the prickly beard that had begun growing in after he decided not to shave in the days upcoming to Thanksgiving. It was a bit of a pain sporting facial hair, but the bedraggled effect it had on Jason’s appearance made the mild inconvenience worth it.

The manor itself resided atop a hill that seemed to loom over Jason as he pulled up to the gate on his Ducati, ringing the buzzer that answered back with a posh English accent. The voice was dampened by the underlying static of the intercom.

“Master Todd,” a man greeted pleasantly, “we are delighted to have you for this occasion. If you will, please continue up the drive towards the courtyard.”

Jason blinked owlishly.

Master Todd? Now that was going to take some getting used too.

Jason snickered at the strange formal title, shaking his head disbelievingly.

“Thanks Jeeves.”

There was a sharp noise on the other end that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

“Only on the weekends, however, the other five days of the week I go by Alfred, sir,” the man proudly declared. “Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

 

 

If Jason was any amount of nervous, he did not show it as he smoothly maneuvered off his bike and took in the vastness of Wayne Manor. It was impossible not to marvel at the mansion Bruce Wayne had called home since he had been born. Sometimes, Wayne did Christmas tours of his home, donating all the proceedings to orphanages all over Gotham. Now, Jason understood why people lined up for outrageous hours just for a peak around into a life they could only dream about.

It was nothing short of impressive.

Jason allowed a moment of awe before he buried it completely, dawning an image of aloof awareness as he strutted up towards the double doors that opened for him as soon as he ascended the limestone steps.

A man, decked out fully in butler gear, greeted Jason with a warm, inviting smile. He looked to be in his sixties, having fully grayed and how the lines of his face were deeply ingrained, especially around his eyes and mouth. Despite how soft the man appeared in general, there was a sharpness in his eyes that Jason noticed immediately and caught him off guard.

“Master Todd,” Alfred greeted, “we’ve heard a lot about you from Master Dick.” He gestured inside the house. “Please, come in.”

“Well alright,” Jason said, stepping inside. He whistled as he gazed around, eyes wide, like every sight he landed on was a visual feast he couldn’t wait to gobble up. “Goddamn,” Jason breathed, stunned. He turned back to Alfred, incredulous, gesturing to the marble floors and the high ceilings. “You clean all this? I hope Wayne pays you well,” a thought came to him then, “and if he doesn’t, I bet you still manage to get by.” Jason grinned lecherously, full of double, unlawful meaning.

Alfred remained the perfect picture of calm and kept, but Jason could see the man making a note to check the valuables when he left.

“I do just fine,” Alfred coolly reassured Jason. “Now if you would excuse me, a few more preparations have to be made for dinner. You will find everyone waiting in the parlor down the hall.”

Alfred left promptly, leaving Jason to make his big grand opening.

The sound of voices became louder as Jason made his way to the parlor and the anticipation made him giddy.  He walked into a sitting room furnished with plush couches and chairs; a brick fire place was the focal point of the room and crackled sharply with fragrant firewood; a large thick rug centered the room and was probably worth more money than Jason had ever spent in his life.

Conversation paused as several pairs of eyes turned onto Jason as he entered, but the only ones he caught and held were Dick’s, who looked at him as if he hung the very moon and stars.

Jason smiled, soft. His reaction to seeing Dick was genuine.

“Jay,” Dick acknowledged him excitedly, “I’m so glad you could make it.” Dick quickly got up from his seat and made his way over to Jason with a visible spring in his step.

Jason had thought a lot about this moment, about what he’d do to get the best reaction from everyone watching.

When Dick was in grasping distance, Jason embraced him, wrapping his arms around Dick’s waist and sliding his hands along the alluring curve of his upper back, molding his body to Dick’s own. He then bent his head down and kissed Dick passionately, delighting in how Dick didn’t even miss a step. He kissed Jason back just as bold and audacious, threading his fingers through Jason’s hair and pulling him in impossibly close. He clutched firmly at Dick’s waist, skimming his fingers along his sides, making Dick usher a low sound against Jason’s lips.

A loud clearing of a throat brought their attention back. The sound was highly uncomfortable in nature and Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as they parted ways rather reluctantly.

“Best ‘hello’ I’ve gotten all day,” Jason whispered low, nipping at Dick’s bottom lip.

Dick laughed, the sound a bit breathless. He licked over his lips.

“You look good.”

“I could say the same thing about you, babe,” Jason leered.

The clearing sound got noticeably louder.

Jason finally turned his gaze onto Bruce Wayne who stared right back, looking about ready to have an aneurism. He was dressed head to toe in black, the high turtleneck accenting the sharp angles of his face. If Bruce Wayne had been just another average joe, without the details of his personal history known by the whole world, Jason would’ve believed without any doubt that Bruce was Dick’s biological father. Their likeness of one another was uncanny.

“Bruce, this is Jay,” Dick introduced, “Jay, this is Bruce.”

Bruce was good at donning masks, Jason immediately realized as Bruce strode over to him, appearing pleasant enough as he extended his hand. His face was carefully crafted into an expression that displayed an easy-going nature as he smiled, close-lipped. It was strange seeing him subdued like this; the opposite of the reckless and lackadaisical man Jason had seen make an ass out of himself through the years.

“The legend,” Jason said as he rose his hand to meet Bruce’s. His grip made Jason inwardly wince, cutting off the circulation in his hand. “How’s it going, man?”

“It’s—going,” Bruce responded awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet the man who’s caught my son’s eye.”

“Caught more than that,” Jason said, purposely slipping in a bit of innuendo just to see Bruce’s lip twitch. “But yeah, it’s good to meet you too, man. Nice digs you got.” Jason clapped at Bruce’s shoulder, hard, as he moved past him, wordlessly pushing Bruce to the side.

It was incredibly rude, but Jason had other guests to acquaint himself with. There was a bombshell redhead who looked absolutely horrified by the following proceedings. He figured he’d start with her.

She quickly schooled her expression as Jason swaggered up to her, pointedly looking the woman up and down, the formfitting burgundy dress did her curves so many favors. Jason probably would’ve appreciated the view more if he didn’t like cock so much.

“And who might you be?” Jason asked, silky. “You Wayne’s girl?”

She grew flustered by this presumption, looking to Wayne quickly as if to apologize for Jason’s miscalculation.

She made a face. “Uh, no, family friend. Dick and I went to school together,” redhead extended her hand, business like. “Barbara Gordon. Nice to finally meet you.” Jason grinned, knowing. She didn’t mean it. It was understandable. He was being slimy as hell.

Jason took her hand in his, gently gripping her fingers, and raising her knuckles to his lips where he laid a plush kiss on her skin.

An older man next to her hovered protectively, not bothering to hide his displeasure at the situation, and Jason almost broke character when he realized just who it was. Gordon; of-fucking-course.

The bushy mustache hadn’t changed a bit, but Jason certainly had. Jason had been a teenager when he’d been arrested for drug possession. He wondered if Jim Gordon remembered the four-foot nine, scrabbly kid with gangly limbs who had badly needed a hair-cut.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he acknowledged Jim Gordan’s poise presence.

“Shit. This shindig has all the major players, now doesn’t it?” Jason made a show of twisting his head this way and that. “Harvey Dent isn’t gonna peak out from around the corner and scare my ass, is he?” Jason joked. He ignored how no one seemed to be laughing—except the kid.

Jason saw, who he presumed, was Dick’s little brother standing off towards the side, smoothing his hand over his trembling mouth. He had to give the kid credit, he really was trying to keep it together, but he was steadily crumbling. Along with Dick, he was the only one who knew Jason was putting on an act.

“Ah, you must be Timmy.” Jason nodded to the kid, who coughed up his embarrassment at being caught unaware. He hadn’t thought anyone had been watching him.

He gave Jason a pointed look, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders to appear bigger than he was. “It’s just Tim.”

Jason shrugged, unconcerned. “Timothy then.”

Tim’s brows furrowed in frustration. He opened his mouth to refute, but before he could, Alfred had silently joined them, announcing dinner was served.

 

 

The dining room was like something out of a goddamn catalogue. The room itself was bathed in warm hues, made only more inviting by how several candles flickered in the soft light, permeating an aroma that made Jason feel at ease. However, it was the food spread, lined up all the way from one end of the table to the other, that caught Jason’s attention and held it.

He was sure he’d never seen so much food in one place. It looked like a feast for a small town rather than Bruce Wayne and his five guests. Jason shook his head in wonder.

Fucking rich people.

Bruce took his place at the head of the table, while everyone else followed his cue. Jason, Dick, and Tim sat on one side of the table with Jason being the furthest away from Bruce, while Jim and Barbara sat on the other side.

“Alfred,” Bruce began, wonderous, “this looks wonderful.”

Alfred wasn’t one to easily accept praise, Jason noticed. The older man inclined his head slightly, ushering a simple thank you as if such an act was the least he could do.

“If that is all, I shall be heading—”

“C’mon Alfred, sit down.” Dick smiled, nodding his head towards one of the empty chairs. “You’re family too.”

Alfred looked mildly distressed, shifting awkwardly on his feet; he was a man used to operating behind the scenes.

“I have to agree,” Bruce added, his voice incredibly fond. “Take a seat, old friend. You, especially, belong at this table.”

With that, they began the feast. Jason’s plate piled up like a miniature mountain as dishes were passed around. The smell alone was enough to have Jason salivating. 

“You guys religious at all? Say grace? Hail Mary?” Jason asked as he crudely licked over the pads of his fingers. The gravy train had sort of derailed and spilled messily as he poured it in heaps over his turkey. There was a pause, and Jason shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Yeah, me neither. Religion is a crock of horse shit, but I still think we should go around the room and say what we’re thankful for. You know, for the spirit of things.”

Barbara looked slightly taken aback but nodded her head. “Yeah…that sounds like a good idea. Who wants to start?”

Predictably, no one volunteered.

Sighing, Barbara crossed her arms over her chest, indignant. “Fine, okay. I guess I’ll go first.” She took a short moment to gather her words. “I’m thankful for all the people who helped me and stayed positive when it was hard to stay optimistic myself. You guys know how difficult this year was for me, and I don’t think I would’ve gotten as far on my own if it wasn’t for you all supporting me, so thank you—for being there.”

Jason clapped, loudly, breaking the heartfelt atmosphere.

“That was beautiful,” Jason said. “I don’t know how anyone is gonna top that, but good luck fellas.”

That startled a laugh out of Barbara, who seemed surprised by the outburst and stifled it just as quick.

“Okay, enough about me,” Barbara said, shuffling the attention away from herself. “Who’s next?” Her eyes searched around the room, gaze turning playful and predatory. “C’mon you wimps, don’t make me pull your arm behind your back.”

Lips came loose then; Jim, Alfred, Tim, and Bruce. They were all pretty much thankful for the same things; family, various opportunities given to them, and in Tim’s case, the fact that Dick had moved out, beginning his takeover of Dick’s old room because Tim found the space superior to his own.

“Our rooms are literally the same.” Dick said, amused.

Tim huffed in disagreement. It seemed like they’d had this conversation several times before without any luck of coming to a mutual understanding.

“I keep telling you—it’s not.” Tim argued.

Shaking his head, Dick responded: “The problem, little brother, is that you just never clean yours, that’s why my room seems bigger.”

Tim snorted loudly. “Oh, that’s _funny_ coming from you Dick.”

“Master Dick, Master Tim,” Alfred interrupted swiftly, having privy to this conversation on more than one occasion apparently. “Perhaps you both could save this rousing discussion for another time.”

“Oh—yeah—sorry Al,” Dick apologized quickly, flustered. He straightened his back like a boy called upon in class. “Um, I guess I’m most thankful that I can be here with you all today. It’s rare we ever see each other these days—let alone making the time to sit down at the same table and eat together. It’s almost like we’re a real family guys,” Dick joked. “But for real, I can’t imagine not having any of you in my life. I’m thankful for you all.”

Jason didn’t have to act endeared as he leaned over and gave Dick a kiss on his cheek, making an uncomfortable sound of frustration as his lips left Dick’s skin with a wet pop.

“God, you’re so cute. I can’t stand it.” Jason murmured in Dick’s ear, ignoring the horrified stares of Bruce and Barbara, who simultaneously looked like they wanted to drag Jason away from Dick and melt into the floor to avoid watching what was transpiring.

“I think it’s obvious,” Jason proudly began, “but I’m thankful for this man right here.”

Clasping Dick’s shoulder, Jason gave the broad appendage a firm squeeze. Dick’s gaze turned onto him fondly and for a moment, the emotion found in them seemed startlingly genuine. His practiced words evaporated from his throat like a riverbed without any rain in the heat of summer, and he swallowed with trouble, trying to will any moisture back into his mouth. He found himself leaning more towards the truth, unable to make up any outlandish and exaggerated stories about why he was so captivated with this man, not when the real reasons were so blaringly obvious.

“I haven’t known him for a long time, but even a fool like me knows right off the bat that Dick is someone special.” Jason declared. The room hushed, surprised. “It seems everyone only focuses on how gorgeous you are—and yeah, that’s a hell of a plus—but what’s never mentioned is how kindhearted you are. You manage to make a lasting impression on everyone you meet, and even in my own life—just having you in it—it’s been—well—it’s been really great to be honest.”

There was an expression of bewildered astonishment that flashed over Dick’s features for a moment before the look passed completely. Something unknown caught between them, and Dick smiled, sweet enough to have Jason’s teeth aching.

“Thanks Jay,” Dick said, incredibly soft. Interlocking their fingers, Dick brought up their hands to his mouth and placed a lingering kiss on Jason’s knuckles before he released him. The touch sent a wave of sensation racing up his spine, jolting him as warmth settled low inside his gut, spreading throughout his entire body.

 _Fuck_ , Jason thought. Everyone at the table was looking at him with a new kind of consideration behind their eyes, as if they’d might have judged him a bit too soon. He couldn’t have that.

“Eh, no thanks needed,” Jason announced, suddenly aloof, his demeanor changing just as quick as a chameleon. He earnestly broke that connection with Dick as he began digging into his food. “I mean, I did kind of skip over the deciding factor.” Jason grinned lecherously, wiggling his brows at Dick.

Bruce made a pained noise and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His eyes cut to Alfred, and they seemed to have an expeditious conversation just in a blink of an eye. Bruce exhaled a heavy breath, reigning in his patience. Jason stared down at his plate, the beginnings of a grin breaking out over his face that he couldn’t suppress. He nudged Dick with his knee under the table, conspiratorial. The look Dick gave him out of the corner of his eye threatened to crumble Jason with laughter.

“Let’s dig in,” Bruce began, tone strained, “the food is getting cold.”

 

 

No one spoke as they ate. The sound of silverware and the clink of glasses provided much needed white noise for the awkward film that had settled over dinner.

However, it was difficult to remain indifferent when Dick was determined to play footsies with him underneath the table. They both began snickering, trembling with the power of their contained laughter, falling into the influence the reaction had on their bodies. It came to a head when Dick choked on a mouthful of sweet potato casserole, the food having went down the wrong hole.

Tim rolled his eyes.

“This is nauseating,” Tim murmured under his breath. “Don’t breathe and eat at the same time, idiot.” Tim handed Dick his water and Dick hoarsely thanked him, taking big gulps.

“So,” Barbara began, aimlessly sliding around her mash potatoes with her fork, “how did you two meet?”

Dick had hinted to Jason that he and Barbara had had a thing before they’d eventually called it quits. Jason didn’t know the full story, but he hadn’t imagined the inquisitive looks Barbara had been throwing his way all evening. Either, she was an ex still scorned or she was an ex who still had her exes best interest at heart. Jason was leaning towards the latter.

It was too bad that their fictional beginnings where less than wholesome.

“Oh man,” Jason chuckled, giddy. “You wanna tell the story babe, or do you want me to?”

Dick looked at him over the rim of his glass, eyes bright. “I like how you tell it Jay.”

With permission granted, Jason began the tale of how he and Dick had met at a no pants party in downtown Gotham. It went over just as well as one would expect.

“Underwear wasn’t required, but I mean, c’mon, that’s a fucking health hazard. No matter how much plastic they have plastered on the chairs and couches, I’m wearing my undies, okay?”

Jason paused, taking a sip of wine to wet his whistle. He swirled the liquid loudly inside his mouth. He didn’t have to look around to see that everyone at the table had a look of repugnance on their face. Tim was the only exception.

“So, I stick out like a sore thumb—you know, being the only dude in his underwear at a no pants party—and then I see this looker,” Jason gestured towards Dick with a nod of his chin, “and he’s wearing Looney Tunes boxers and I just _know_.”

“How— _romantic_ ,” Barbara said, though it sounded more like a question. She looked like she regretted asking for the story but was too nice to cut Jason off. Bless her heart.

“I’m nervous, but I go up to him anyways, and my opening line?”

“‘So, you like Looney Tunes? That’s pretty cool, man.’” Dick helpfully filled in.

“And I’m like, shit, I fucked up—nice going Jay—but Dick takes pity on me and we have like, a twenty-minute conversation on Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, and how like, the show is absolutely not for children—at all.”

“He literally asked me if I wanted to go somewhere ‘quieter’ to talk about cartoons.”

“What can I say,” Jason shrugged, “I got invested in an interesting conversation. Anyways, I know I’m feeling him, and I think Dick’s feeling me, so I take a shot out in the dark, put on my big boy pants—you know, figuratively—and ask him out. It’s a wrap from there.”

“Invite us to the wedding,” Tim mumbled.

Bruce however, didn’t find it all that funny. In one ambitious move, Bruce downed the rest of his wine in one gulp.

“Dick,” Bruce spoke up, his tone severe, “what have I told you about attending those types of parties?”

Turning to face Bruce, Dick smiled, though the emotion behind it was all wrong. “Anyone else feel the suffocating hypocrisy coming off of Bruce in droves?” Dick looked around. “Just me then?”

“If you have something you want to say, just come out and say it.” Bruce said, brows furrowed.

“Why are you so mad? I’m just following in daddy’s footsteps. I thought you’d be proud.”

Tim blanched, staring back and forth between his father and brother. “Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom.” He made to get up, but Bruce’s cutting glare made him pause, sinking back into his chair. “I can hold it.”

Bruce grabbed his napkin, wiping primly at the corners of his mouth. He pushed back his chair. “Dick, can I speak with you? Alone?”

Dick sighed. “Whatever.” He still got up.

“Food’s great Jeeves,” Jason professed, filling in the awkward silence that had descended on the table.

Alfred sighed, exhausted, not even bothering to correct Jason. “Thank you, Master Todd.”

 

 

Dinner, from there on, was rather uneventful. Jason didn’t hear any shouting, so he guested Dick was doing just fine. Their party of five moved into an elegant sitting room where dessert was served. Generous slices of apple, blueberry, and pumpkin pie were placed on Bruce’s finest china, while Alfred prepared a tea pot full of Earl Gray.

The room was supposed to be a cozy, intimate area, but nonetheless, everyone remained tense.

“Commissioner Gordon,” Jason addressed the man who hadn’t said much the entire night. Gordon wasn’t an inviting man; everything about his demeanor was reserved and dour. Even on the right side of the law, Gotham took no prisoners. The weight of the city itself seemed to rest on Jim Gordon’s shoulders.

“How’s the GPD holding up? I read online that the precinct just busted a group of crooked cops that were stealing drugs from the evidence locker, and then selling the drugs back into the streets to bust kids for quotas.” Jason thought of some of the guys he’d known, saddled with higher offenses because they’d been one year older than him or darker. It pissed him off. “They were caught, all thanks to you. Retirement must seem more and more appealing, am I right?”

“I wish,” Barbara murmured under her breath.

Jim shifted, clearing his throat. He pushed up his thick-rimmed glasses along the bridge of his nose. Jason still couldn’t get over that goddamn mustache. It was distracting.

“It was hardly all my effort,” Jim modestly established. “Gotham has incredibly devoted men and women of the law who work day in and day out to keep this city just, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to say goodbye to it yet.”

Jason nodded. “You’ve done a lot for Gotham.”

It was common knowledge, but Jim deserved to hear it anyways.

“I hope you’ve cleaned up your act since the last time I saw you, Jason.” The full weight of those ancient eyes settled on him completely and Jason’s breath caught. “Dick’s a nice kid; known him since he was a little boy, and he deserves some one better than just ‘good’. I hope you’ll be that person for him.”

Jason startled, unnerved. He blinked rapidly noting the sudden spike in his heart beat.

Tim and Barbara exchanged puzzled looks, trading glances between Jason and Jim.

“I have a thing for faces.” Jim explained, though the answer to the question was only one Jason knew.

He grinned, carefree, trying to cover up his nerves.

Jim Gordon remembered him.

“Wait a minute—”

“Woah, hold up!” Jason interrupted Barbara, who had begun to piece the puzzle together. He could see her mind work frighteningly fast, moving the pieces and connecting them to their appropriate partners. “You’re acting like I asked Dick to marry me back in there,” He gestured towards the dining room. “We’re not _that_ serious. We’re just having fun, man.”

Jim’s accompanying stare was flat, disbelieving. He huffed an exasperated breath and shook his head. “Whatever you say, son.”

Whatever Jim was implying, Jason didn’t particularly like it.

He opened his mouth, ready to refute, but Bruce and Dick suddenly reemerged. It was the echo of voices bouncing down the hallway that alerted the group of them that whatever father and son had discussed, it wasn’t going well. Jason only heard broken up snippets of conversation before Dick materialized, looking flushed with anger. He stalked right up to Jason, breath coming quick. Jason was at a loss as he stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Hey babe, what’s—”

“Jason, we’re going.” Dick announced. It was the first time tonight that Dick had said his name—his full name. Something was wrong. Jason immediately stood, concern etched over his features as he placed his hands onto Dick’s shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Dick’s eyes looked bright with the beginnings of tears. He stubbornly blinked them away.

“Woah, slow down. What happened?”

“You can drop the act,” Bruce declared as he calmly came into view.  “It was nice to meet you, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave—without the addition of my son.” His tone had all the arrogance of a man who was used to never being told no. Jason glared at him.

“The jig is up, huh?”

“Yes,” Bruce said coldly. “Now you’ll have something amusing to tell the press I suppose. I’m sure they’ll pay a pretty penny for such a vapid story. I wonder what the headline will be? ‘Stranger gets an insider view of Bruce Wayne during the holidays.’”

“Bruce—!” Dick shouted. He turned on Bruce quick, teeth bared, but Jason stopped him.

Jason barked a short, rough sounding laugh, void of all humor. “They sure as hell weren’t lying when they said you where an ass.” He turned his attention back to Dick and Jason’s whole demeanor noticeably softened. “Hey, I’m gonna take off. You obviously need to work stuff out with your dad and I’m not gonna get in-between that.” He grinned then, boyish and charming. “Despite the sour ending, I had fun.” With his inevitable parting, he pressed his lips to Dick’s cheek in goodbye. “Call me,” Jason whispered in Dick’s ear, an enticing promise in those two words.

Any residual fondness left Jason when he came to face Bruce, coming to stand in front of the man who, even though they were roughly similar in height, still seemed to tower over Jason.

“I know it might be hard for you, but maybe ask yourself why your son asked some nobody to come shake up your sheltered little idea of life,” Jason challenged. “Ask yourself why he would want to do that, and why he would want to displease you. Talk to him, and maybe just listen.”

Turning back to Barbara, Jim, and Alfred, who all appeared bewildered and confused as to what was taking place except Tim, Jason bid them adieu.

His bike was waiting where he’d left it as he slid on, barreling out of the courtyard as small pebbles kicked up behind him. The tire streak Jason left was both a middle finger and a goodbye to Bruce Wayne.

Jason hoped Dick talked to Bruce— _really_ talked to him—about what he wanted; a future free of a career at Wayne Enterprises that he was dreading with each new passing day. Maybe it wasn’t Jason’s place to bring up the issue, but what better time was going to find them, if not today of all days? Dick could be mad at him, but if it helped in any way, Jason would gladly take that anger.

He wished Dick luck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awaited conclusion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wipes sweat off brow*
> 
> well here it is you guys, the final chapter of this totally indulgent mess. i want to say thank you for all of you who commented. i really treasure your feedback and i always come back to read them, so thanks again.
> 
> anyways, all grammatical errors are my own. if you see something up, please let me know!
> 
> enjoy!!!!!!

When Jason arrived home, his apartment was uncharacteristically quiet. It was one of the rare instances where Jason didn’t find Roy lounging in his apartment, eating chips and watching old reruns of the same cartoons they’d watch as children on Saturday mornings. Wherever his friend was, Jason hoped he was having a good time, and not sulking in a dark corner like he usually did during the holidays.

Jason had been sullen on his drive back into downtown Gotham; he regretted leaving Dick to deal with his asshole of a father alone.

Talk about not judging a book by its cover. Bruce Wayne hadn’t been at all what Jason had expected. He’d predicted flashiness, and a personality no deeper than that of the shallow end of a pool, but Bruce had a presence that was oddly aware, and not to mention, a bit intimidating. Jason had had an image of who he believed Bruce Wayne to be; a ditzy party boy who’d once swam in a historical fountain simply because he’d tripped. Apparently, Bruce Wayne was more than what met the eye.

Whatever, Jason thought, rolling his eyes, a jerk-ass is still a jerk-ass to me.

Moodily, Jason threw his jacket and helmet onto the couch as he made his way towards his bedroom and collapsed face first onto his bed. The void he found behind the lids of his eyes was a comfort. He needed to take a shower and brush his teeth, but Jason remained still for as long as he dared until the lull of sleep creeped and threatened to take him under. He rose with a protesting groan, feeling his joints crack in objection as he began to disrobe, making his way towards the bathroom.

When he was finished showering, the bathroom was opaque in heavy steam. He felt renewed and rejuvenated as he wrapped a towel around his waist, beads of water falling from the ends of his hair, trailing transparent paths along his skin. He opened the door that connected to his bedroom and shivered at the cool air that greeted his heated skin.

On his bed, Jason noticed his phone blinking with an alert message and picked it up, entering his four-digit code to unlock the screen. It was Roy, checking in, wondering how the dinner went.

 _Too much to say over text. I’ll tell you everything when I see you next_ , Jason answered back, short.

Jason made to throw his phone back on the bed but paused. He didn’t overthink his actions when he decided to shoot Dick a quick text. He was still in rocky territory, but Jason was feeling apologetic with how he’d left things with Dick. It was unfair of him, how he had stirred events and left Dick to deal with the consequences.

[Jason]: _Hey, are you alright?_

Dressing in loose pajama bottoms, Jason managed to brush and floss his teeth before his phone brightly chimed. He was oddly hesitant when he retrieved his phone, opening the message system with baited breath.

[Dick]: _Hey Jason. My family didn’t scare you off?_

_I’m okay, just tired. I’m sorry about tonight._

The response was a surprise. Jason looked at the colorful block message, purposely blinking to make sure he was seeing things right. He fingers flew over the keys, cursing under his breath each time a word was auto-corrected, inaccurately guessing his thoughts for him.

[Jason]: _Lol. What are you even talking about? I’m fine._

_I’m surprised you’re not pissed at me. I said some stuff that wasn’t in my right and I’d understand if you told me to fuck right off. Anyways, I’m glad you’re okay. I hope Bruce wasn’t too harsh on you._

[Dick]: _Pssh, don’t worry about Bruce. I think you knocked him down a peg and damn if he didn’t need it. He was quiet, more than usual, when you left. I think he was thinking about what you said._

Jason lounged back onto the stacked pillows on his bed, trying to find a comfortable position. He smoothed a warm palm back and forth across his chest, absentmindedly shifting his hand downwards as his fingers brushed through the trail of course hair at the base of his abdomen.

[Jason]: _And what about you?_

[Dick]: _I’m not mad at you Jason. I know you meant well._

_Bruce and I talked afterwards, and we were able to start a conversation about Wayne Enterprises            and my future within it, or lack thereof. He seemed open and understanding about it tbh._

Jason ushered a sigh of relief. He was so used to fucking things up, and he was happy he hadn’t managed to do the same in this situation. He hadn’t known Dick for long, but already, he was irrationally invested in his life.

[Jason]: _Well, I’m sorry anyways. It wasn’t right for me to put you on the spot like that, but I’m glad Bruce is open to you looking at different venues instead of Wayne Enterprises._

[Dick]: _You’re a real stand up guy, you know that?_

Jason found himself smiling, unable to help the wide stretch of his mouth and the sudden flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

[Jason]: _Shh, don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation as an asshole to uphold._

_So. When can I see you again? You know, if that’s even still on the table. If not, I’ll go promptly fling myself into the sun._

[Dick]: _Lol. Well, that depends…_

_Where are you?_

Jason perked. His heart beat faster with anticipation, his entire body throbbing in tandem. He licked over his lips in a quick pass, fingers flying over the keys.

[Jason]: _Home. In bed. However, that can change in a blink of an eye if you’re involved._

[Dick]: _Aw, you tired? I can always come over later if you’re not up for a visit ;)_

[Jason]: _No, no, I’m up. I’m SO up, like you wouldn’t believe. Come over._

[Dick]: _Lol. You’re really shameless, aren’t you?_

_I’m already leaving. What’s your address?_

[Jason]: _Pot calling the kettle black, you ass._

_8954 Arbor Court. Apt. 210_

_Get. Over. Here._

It was only after Jason set his phone down, in a complete state of shock, that he remembered his apartment was an absolute mess. Jason immediately sprung out of bed and hurried into the living room, not knowing which area he should tackle first.

In an energetic rush, Jason gathered empty coke cans and jolly rancher wrappers laid strew across the coffee table. In the kitchen, he had a stack of plates that were still dirty, piled high in the sink. He quickly wiped down the counters with a wet paper towel and began the arduous process of washing the dishes.

Several minutes later, a loud knock on the door disrupted a debate on whether Jason would have enough time to vacuum. The abrupt sound made Jason startle. He cursed under his breath, turning his head this way and that, making sure there wasn’t something he’d overlooked that he could fix up in less than a second. Either way, he would have to be content with what he’d managed clean in thirty short minutes.   

Jason jogged to the front door, chest rising quick as he opened it in a wide swing.

It seemed impossible for a person to find someone more and more attractive with every new glimpse, but here Dick was, in the dimly lit hallway light, looking painfully beautiful like he was born from a dream. Unable to help himself, Jason’s eyes roamed over the length of Dick’s body. He was still dressed in the dark slacks and royal blue button-down shirt he’d worn to dinner. The material was rumpled from wear, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the buttons undone to show the tempting hollow of his throat.

“Are you going to invite me in?” Dick asked, the glint in his eyes knowing. He was smiling, basking in the attention.

“Oh,” Jason blinked, dumbly. “Yeah. Come in. Want anything?”

Dick shook his head. He strolled into Jason’s apartment confidently, while Jason closed the door behind him. He watched with baited breath as Dick curiously peered around his home, his gaze landing on every surface until those baby blues were satisfied and rounded back onto him.

At that moment, Jason became actively aware of three things. One: he wasn’t wearing a shirt, two: the thin cotton of his pajama bottoms, and three: how his home suddenly felt underwhelmingly simple compared to what Dick was probably used to.

Jason shifted on his feet, unsure. His arms felt heavy and awkward at his sides.

“Welcome to mi casa,” Jason said, gesturing lamely to his sparsely decorated living room and his hand-me-down furniture, either given to him or bought at gently used discount stores.

Dick smiled, soft, as he sauntered closer to Jason.

“It feels lived in,” Dick began, taking another look around, “I can see you in here, you know, doing things. Feels like you.”

Jason snorted, but felt his heart bleed at the sentiment of what Dick had said.

“So, you mean an utter and complete mess?”

Dick laughed, bright and loud. He shook his head, appearing thoughtful as he bit at his bottom lip.

“No,” Dick said quietly, and he stepped into Jason’s space. Jason’s breath hitched at the feel of Dick’s palms sliding over his collar bones and moving to cradle his neck with broad hands that made him shiver. “I mean cozy and inviting— _warm_.” Dick angled his face up and Jason dipped to meet him. Their lips hovered, expectant, savoring the tension that built between them.

“I’ve been thinking about this since you kissed me for the first time tonight,” Dick admitted in a low, heated rush. “I felt it all the way down to my bones. You had me on fire.”

Jason cursed. He wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist, laying his palms flat on the small of his back, and slowly mapped the curve of his spine.

“You make me— _god_ , you make me want you so much.” Jason husked, breath hot on Dick’s lips. The barest touch made the dam break, and they surged together like the universe had been made solely for this moment. The kiss was ardent, boiling his blood, as Jason tugged Dick closer, squeezing at his sides to damper his growing desire. He didn’t want to progress further than what Dick was comfortable with. However, it was hard—in more ways than one—to remain gentleman-like with how Dick was moving against him.

It astonished Jason just how soft Dick’s lips were and how warm his mouth was when he dipped his tongue inside. Dick groaned against his lips, opening his mouth wider. His hips jolted and pressed against Jason’s growing hard-on, which made Jason break the kiss with a wet gasp. He hissed at the intense sensation, wanting nothing more than to burn.

Dick was unrelenting as he licked and nipped at the define jut of Jason’s jaw. His lips migrated to Jason’s ear where he sucked on the lobe and then moved to sigh his hot breath on the sensitive shell. The reaction was instant; Jason moaned, carding his fingers through Dick’s hair as he anchored the other man impossibly close, wanting to feel every inch of him. His hands were like brands, scorching, as they encompassed generous handfuls of Jason’s ass and squeezed, spreading him through his clothes, while the pads of his fingers prodded against his asshole.

He swallowed, hard. “Oh fuck,” Jason breathed, “oh, _goddamn_.”

Jason felt Dick’s pleased hum resonate inside his ear and shivered all the way down to his toes.

“Has it been a while,” Dick asked, sultry, “or did you just realize that you might want a couple of fingers in your ass?”

The image of Dick’s fingers buried to the knuckle made Jason’s hole clench with anticipation. He licked boldly over his lips, grinning. “Were you hoping to pop my cherry, baby?” Jason chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint, but I love having my ass played with. Makes me come so fucking hard.”

“Jesus fuck,” Dick muttered breathlessly. His teeth bluntly dragged down Jason’s throat, hungry, like he’d never be able to get enough. “Lucky for me then. I plan to take full advantage.”

In a whirlwind, Dick captured Jason’s lips once more. Jason sucked on Dick’s bottom lip as they stumbled clumsily towards the couch. Dick impatiently tugged and pushed at the hem of Jason’s pajama pants, his hands indulgently sliding over the perk muscle of his ass until the material pooled around his feet and Jason’s cock bounced free, rigid and flushed.

Dick shoved him onto the couch and hurriedly sank to the floor, pushing his body in between Jason’s knees. His hands caressed over Jason’s thick thighs, admiring, before spreading them wide. The utter rush of having Dick on his knees was enough to have Jason shaking with want. His hips thrusted into air, desperate for friction.

“Fuck,” Dick cursed appreciatively, circling Jason’s cock. The simplest of touches had Jason arching, throwing his head back against the crest roll of the couch with a deep, sonorous groan. “You have such a nice cock—so fucking pretty and big.” Dick’s grip was loose as he pumped Jason at a leisurely pace. “I bet you’ve fucked a lot of guys with a cock this big.” The curve of his mouth was devastating. “I bet they all screamed for it, didn’t they?”

Jason’s mouth flooded, threatening to drip from the corner of his mouth. He swallowed heavily, throat bobbing as he raked a hand through his hair and pulled at the roots.

“God, you talkin’ like that…”

“Is it turning you on?” Dick angled closer, now breathing the words on Jason’s sensitive cockhead, his lips brushing over the silky skin. “Does it turn you on when I talk about your big cock? How much I want it in my mouth?”

Jason gasped, thrusting crudely against his lips, begging for entrance. He watched Dick through lidded eyes as he sloppily mouthed along his length, running his tongue up in broad, flat strokes. The intensity of those eyes burned into Jason, making his insides melt. His breath was punched out of him when Dick finally engulfed the tip, tongue running in languid circles around his frenulum, before those lips swallowed down his cock with such impressive agility that he went cross-eyed for an instant. Jason’s lungs expanded in a rush before he moaned, loud, eyes rolling into the back of his skull as Dick unmade him.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jason cursed. He indulgently ran one of his hands across his chest, palming at a pectoral as the other ran down his abdominals, moving until he was cupping Dick’s cheek, thumb caressing the area where the seam of Dick’s lips met his cock.

“God,” Jason shuddered, “you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dick hummed, pleased, around his mouthful as he began to zealously bob his head up and down. The enthusiastic, sloppy, wet drag had Jason floating on a cloud of pure sensation as he surrendered to the feeling, body going lax with pleasure. He was unashamed in showing Dick how good he made him feel; moaning and voicing his appreciation with talk that would’ve made a pervert like Roy blush. He startled slightly when the pad of Dick’s thumb brushed over his hole.

It wasn’t often that Jason allowed men the indulgence of playing with his ass. For Jason, it was an incredibly intimate and personal experience, to be exposed in such a way. He was only willing to participate in the act if he trusted the person he was opening himself up for, and he trusted Dick—he really did.

Dick watched Jason carefully as his thumb screwed into his asshole without breaching inside. Jason’s body jolted like his skin had met with a live wire; his thighs spread obscenely wide and he grit his teeth against a shout that would’ve revealed just how wrecked he already was. The sound of Dick’s wet gasp as he pulled away from Jason’s cock had him shivering all the way down to the tips of his toes. He didn’t even have a moment to mourn the loss as Dick’s hand wrapped around him, pumping his cock with firm, confident strokes that had Jason panting like a sick dog.

“God _damn_ ,” Jason breathed, “ _fuck_ —that’s good.” He was captivated by the redness of Dick’s lips and the flush high on his cheeks. Dick grinned, smug, before he bent back down and engulfed one of Jason’s balls in his mouth, sucking and tonguing vigorously, while his hand on Jason’s cock displayed the opposite; his fist circled over Jason lazily, prolonging the torturous bliss of being right on the edge, but not having enough momentum to pitch himself off the peak.

“Oh fuck— _baby_ —holy shit, _yeah_ —”

The things Dick was doing with his mouth were sinful; it was enough to have Jason praying to a god he’d never believed in. It made Jason wonder how he would ever find anything that felt as good as Dick’s mouth on him.

“Can you do something for me?” Dick asked in-between laves of his tongue on Jason’s cock.

“Name it,” Jason exhaled shakily, “and it’s yours, gorgeous.”

Dick huffed a laugh, smiling brilliantly. He took a moment just to watch Jason, his gaze a mix of adoring, heated, and lecherous.

“Pull these back for me,” Dick ordered, running his hand along Jason’s trembling thighs, “and hold them.”

Jason’s breath hitched in anticipation as he saw Dick’s eyes gleam with a plan that was, no doubt, going to make Jason lose his mind. Licking over his lips, eager, Jason cradled the undersides of his knees and pulled back his legs, exposing every intimate inch of his skin. He did so shamelessly, showcasing himself in the most desirable way he knew possible, loving how Dick’s eyes devoured him.

Placing his palms, fingers spread, on Jason’s inner thighs, Dick raked his nails lightly up and down his skin. The sensation caused Jason to jerk and hiss, which seemed to delight Dick immensely as he did it over and over.

Jason was learning Dick was the worst kind of tease. It was the smallest of actions that promised the largest and most satisfying rewards. Jason was practically begging for it by the time Dick lowered his mouth to his hole, broadly licking over the twitching pucker. Jason howled in pure elation and dug his nails into his skin, not giving two shits who heard him as Dick hungrily mouthed over his entrance.

Another aspect of Dick, Jason was learning, was that the other man wasn’t shy in the least. Dick was eager to make Jason a bumbling mess, burying his head in-between Jason’s cheeks, both thumbs finding either side of his hole and spreading him wide for the thrust of his tongue.

It had been so long since Jason allowed someone this kind of indulgence. He melted into it, opening himself fully to the experience. When Jason felt the inquiring press of fingers testing his readiness, he grinned, giddy, biting excitedly at his bottom lip as Dick’s middle finger slid gingerly inside of him. The pressure made Jason’s breath halve and he tried not to tense. It really had been a long time.

“Does it feel okay?” Dick asked, his own voice sounding wrecked. “Do you have any lube? Want me to get it?”

Jason clenched around him, his entire body shaking.

“If you move, I’m literally going to throw you out of a window.”

Something like awe flashed over Dick’s features; his eyes bright and impossibly wide as he stared up at Jason. He was laughing in the next instant, vivacious and emphatic, and something inside Jason’s chest tugged, hard.

“Man, you’re something else,” Dick murmured under his breath as he shook his head in wonder.

He didn’t give Jason the chance to ask him to elaborate what that meant as Dick’s head dipped back down, his fingers curling and his tongue prodding in tandem. Dick was patient, considerate, and incredibly attentive to the sounds Jason made and how his body moved in relation to something that Dick did. It felt like Jason was being studied with each caress of Dick’s fingers, tenderly being torn apart with the hope of being made whole again.

Dick was inspiring Jason to make sounds that made heat rise along his neck, settling in his cheeks. He was relentless, spurring reactions from his own body that managed to surprise, then make Jason positively melt.

“Could you come like this?” Dick asked, his voice husky and hot.

His fingers alternated between teasing—not giving Jason the mind-numbing pressure he already craved—to utterly abusing Jason’s prostate with rapid, firm strokes. The sensations had Jason on an edge so high he was seeing double. “Can you come from just two fingers in your ass?” Dick smirked, biting at his bottom lip and dragging it between his teeth with a low, pleased hum. “You’re such a slut Jason,” Dick said fondly, as sweet as a maraschino cherry, “you don’t even need a cock to make you come buckets—just look how wet your cock is.” Dick looked smitten, utterly charmed. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

It was true. There was a wet stain forming on his shitty couch just from how Jason’s cock was leaking like a faulty faucet. Dick’s eyes were eating the sight up, making Jason want to push his head down and fuck Dick’s throat until the tears in his eyes were threatening to spill. However, that fantasy could wait. God knows, Jason was going to make the time to get to know what made Dick whimper and scream.

Jason laughed, breathy and cracking around a groan.

“Just you wait, Dick,” Jason panted, eyes burning with a promise, “I’m gonna take you _apart_. I’m gonna find out what makes you tick and use it to have you begging for a ride on my cock.”

Dick moaned softly, and he swayed forward before he caught himself with a jerk. He chuckled, low, at what he almost allowed himself to do. Whatever it was. His eyes were shining, swirling with unseen fantasies and desires Jason wanted to know as resolutely as his own.

“Hmm, I’m looking forward to it.” Dick’s fingers sped up, that bastard. Jason cursed, feeling that telling heat build in his balls. “If I’m being completely honest here, it won’t take much to convince me to spread my ass for this pretty cock.” His fingers pumped faster, making Jason’s mouth part on a soundless shout. “Even now, I’d get down on my knees and let you pound me into the floor if that’s what you wanted…” Dick trailed off. He was a menace—a complete threat to mankind itself. “Call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s what you want—not right now at least.” Dick teased.

“H-holy fuck—” Jason moaned, writhing wildly as Dick continuously rubbed over his prostate. “ _Oh shit_ — _oh fuck_ —yeah, right there.”

“Yeah? That feel good?” Dick egged on. “You gonna come on my fingers? Gonna make that cock explode with come?”

Jason was gasping, toes curling to painful proportions as the heat building in his balls went red-hot. Dick’s mouth was the last straw that managed to push him over the edge.

With a tortured shout, Jason came, cock jerking as come sprayed along his abdomen in watery, slightly opaque spurts. Jason heaved, chest shuttering, as his entire body tensed with each aftershock. Dick removed his fingers gently when Jason began wincing from overstimulation. He was strangely quiet and thoughtful as he caressed and massaged Jason’s thighs and calves, easing the soreness of having his muscles tensed and spasming for so long.

His breath eventually evened, and Jason laughed weakly when he realized just how much that orgasm had taken out of him. Dick smiled, rising to his full height and groaning when his knees cracked. Jason snorted, lazily voicing how much of an old man Dick was.

“Watch it,” Dick joked as he walked into the kitchen, snagging a hand towel Jason had haphazardly thrown onto the counter. “This old man just made you come your brains out. If anything, I deserve a thank you.” Dick inspected the towel, deeming it clean enough as he ran it under the faucet, wringing the extra water out. Jason watched him with lidded eyes, his gaze caught on the obvious bulge in Dick’s slacks.

Jason’s brow rose, coy.

“I’ll thank you, all right,” Jason murmured, crude. “You want me to take care of that?” Jason gestured to the raging hard-on in Dick’s pants. Jason was practically jumping at the chance.

“Nah,” Dick said, “you look like you’re about to pass out, and this guy will eventually calm down.” Dick comically went to pat his crotch, but then seemed to think better of it. “I can wait.”

Jason absolutely did not pout.

Maybe Dick could wait, but Jason was debating on whether he could as well.

Dick came to sit next to him, bringing the towel to Jason’s stomach, carefully wiping him clean. Jason watched him openly, unable to tear his gaze away. They remained like that for several minutes; Dick tending to Jason, Jason watching Dick.

“It kind of scares me how much I want to make you come,” Jason eventually murmured, stilling Dick’s hand with his own. “It’s not just because you’re hot, like—yeah, that’s a hell of a bonus—but you’re just— _decent_. I feel like you deserve to come lots—and hard too. You’re just—yeah, you’re a good guy.” Jason didn’t know what it was about mind blowing orgasms that made him spout embarrassing shit, but it was too late to take it back. It was out there, waiting to be thrown back in his face.

He heard Dick inhale sharply as he fisted the cloth in his hand.

“That’s—” Dick began, having trouble finding the words. “Is that, I mean, is that your way of saying you like me because if it is— _holy shit_ Jason, that’s—”

“Never mind. I take it back.”

“Wait, no. It was cute,” Dick laughed. “What was it? ‘I wanna make you come lots—and hard too.’ Well, ditto.” 

Jason couldn’t help but laugh with him, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin of Dick’s wrist. He could feel Dick shiver, and Jason desperately wanted to feel that same reaction underneath him, pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, and drown in it.

“I just,” Jason paused, “I want you to know that I’m in this for more than just the prospect of sex—like, that’s cool if that’s all you want,” Jason quickly added, “I’ll happily take anything I can get, but I just, I want you to know that’s not all I care about.”

“Jason,” Dick breathed his name, calming the rapid beat of his frazzled heart and soothing every ache and pain like a balm with just the two syllables of his name. “It’s okay. I like you too.”

Cupping his cheek, Dick kissed Jason slow and sweet. It was indescribable, the sensation that seeped into every inch of Jason’s body, filling him with happiness, contentment, and inspiration. In that moment, he felt invincible, with Dick at his side.

“You’re a real honest guy, you know.” Dick said after a point. “It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so cool.”

Jason snorted.

“Thanks?”

Dick shook his head, leaning into him, and watched Jason’s mouth with a dreamy expression.

“No thanks needed, just kiss me again.”

Jason grinned and did as he was told.

 

 

They spent the next hour laughing and kissing.

Eventually, Jason was raring to go again. He led Dick to the bathroom where he stripped him of his clothes and got down onto his knees despite how hard and cold the tile was. He eagerly took Dick inside his mouth until Dick was keening, gripping at the crown of Jason’s head, and coming down his throat. They kept blistering eye contact as Jason received and swallowed Dick’s come, lazily sucking at the head and twisting his fist around the base as Dick’s cock spurted the last of his essence on Jason’s tongue.

In the shower they washed each other, indulging in the slow exploration of their bodies; broad hands followed the suds that ran down over hard muscle and soft appendages long after the bubbles circled down the drain. Jason and Dick kissed each other until the water went lukewarm, and even then, Jason didn’t want to leave the cocoon they’d made for themselves. He pulled Dick close to him, his fingers molding to the delectable curve of his back, sliding down until he held generous handfuls of Dick’s ass and kneaded each cheek.

Jason groaned against Dick’s lips, and Dick chuckled, eyes blazing.

“God, the things I want to do to you…” Jason breathed, trailing his mouth along Dick’s upturned jaw and biting playfully at his chin. “You’d run if you knew all of what I had planned.”

Dick sighed, blissful. He cradled Jason’s head, pushing him further into his neck where Jason was determined to leave a mark. He could feel Dick swallow, heavily, against his tongue.

“Unlikely,” Dick moaned. “I want it. I want it all.” His nails dug into Jason’s scalp, raking over the skin, making his cock jolt. Jason had been hard ever since he’d bobbed his head eagerly up and down the shaft of Dick’s cock, and now he was aching to fuck until his mind went numb and his body went limp. He suspected Dick wanted the very same as he guided Jason’s hand towards his hole. “I wanna come hard on that cock so when I leave in the morning, I’ll feel it.” Dick whispered hotly, greedily; his hands everywhere. It was making Jason dizzy.

“Who said you could leave?” Jason growled, nipping at Dick’s lips. “Who’s to say I won’t keep you here for the rest of the weekend, huh? Bend you over any time I want and pound that ass?”

“ _Hah_ —don’t tempt me—I might just let you,” he grinned, sharp against Jason’s lips, “but you haven’t proven yourself yet. I’ll only become a whore for a guy who can rock every part of my world, and I’ll settle for nothing less.” His tongued flirted at the seam of Jason’s lips. “You think you can manage that, Jason? You think you can make me your cockslut?”

If Dick kept talking, Jason was going to come before he ever got the chance.

Capturing his mouth, Jason slammed Dick back against the shower wall with just the sheer force of his person. He pressed his chest hard against Dick’s own, keeping him pinned. Jason felt Dick’s nipples against his skin as the other man pushed against the hold, breaking the kiss with a gasp and moaning, shameless, when Jason did not relent. Dick’s lashes fluttered fast like butterfly wings, his mouth agape as his breath came quick. Jason grinned, the edges of it feral.

“Yeah,” Jason goaded, all mean and possessive as he mouthed along Dick’s ear, “you’re too easy not to be my slut. You’re gonna be screaming for it by the end of the night, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck,” Dick gasped, digging his nails in Jason’s back, “yeah—fuck yeah—”

“You want this fat cock buried deep in that ass, baby? Gonna spread those cheeks, gonna let me fucking pound you into kingdom come?”

It seemed like Dick couldn’t get close enough. He growled, practically encouraging Jason with his hands to pin him up against the wall harder. They both hissed as their cocks rubbed and slipped against each other, their base instincts leading them to rut wildly.

“Get in me,” Dick urged, a manic quality underlying his tone, like he’d go crazy if he didn’t get Jason inside him. “Fuck me _—fuck me_ —make me come—make me fucking—”

Jason attacked Dick’s mouth, plundering the inside with his tongue, and biting fiercely at his lips. He couldn’t get enough. He crouched, meaning to grip Dick’s thighs and haul him up so that those wonderfully long legs could wrap around his waist, but Jason faltered when he heard the unmistakable sound of his front door opening, and Roy-motherfucking-Harper loudly declaring his entrance into Jason’s apartment at the worse possible moment.

“Yo, Jay,” Roy shouted, “where you at man? How’d the Wayne’s spectacular Thanksgiving feast go? Did you get any leftovers? I’m fucking starving my dude.”

The air that had ignited and burned between them was quickly dying, only to be completely extinguished in the short space of a second. With a tortured sigh, Jason defeatedly dropped his forehead onto Dick’s shoulder, mourning his plan to spend the night worshipping and ruining Dick both.

“Fuck,” Jason murmured, then a bit louder, yelled, “I’m in the shower you utter fucking asshat—great timing by the way. Just—give me a minute.”

Without the heat Jason and Dick made themselves, the temperature was noticeable again, making Jason shiver as a torrent of chilled water poured down his back. Dick was still, looking at Jason with a puzzled gaze. 

“You have a roommate?” He whispered.

Jason barked a short laugh.

“Nah, more like an annoying older brother who drops in every once in a while, because I’m basically a hermit, and he feels bad for me.” Jason smiled mischievously, a realization coming to him then. “You’ve actually met.”

 

 

“Small world, ain’t it Richie?”

Roy was reclined lazily on Jason’s couch, his arms spread out wide on either side of him. He appeared way too pleased with himself as he knowingly watched Jason and Dick exit Jason’s room. They were, perhaps, overly dressed. Dick was sporting a pair of Jason’s sleep pants that dragged against the shabby beige carpet, and a cotton t-shirt that hung a bit off his frame. Dick’s hair was damp and pushed back, highlighting the devastating angles of his face that Jason would’ve liked to trace over with the pads of his fingers if Roy hadn’t been giving him that shit-eating grin.

The bastard had known what they’d been up to, and yet, Roy didn’t look apologetic in the least. His best friend’s grin was broad and giddy, practically bursting at the seams with excitement.

The moment Dick finally recognized his old friend, those baby blues went wide with bewilderment and genuine shock. Roy cackled, kicking up his legs in a ridiculous fashion. Jason snorted.

“And there it is!” Roy shouted. He pushed up on his feet and spread his arms, wide and inviting. “I’m glad you’re getting on so well. Now get over here and give me a hug.” Dick didn’t even hesitate. His laugh was bright as he rushed for Roy, that wonderous expression still on his face.

Jason stood back and smiled, soft, as he watched two people he was incredibly fond of reconnect. He watched them envelop each other, the palms of their hands clapping their backs in a brotherly embrace.

“Holy shit— _Roy_ ,” Dick breathed as he reared back, “I can’t even tell you how good it is to see you. I tried reaching out after what happened with Oliver, but you were literally a ghost.” Dick suddenly turned to Jason, befuddled. “How did you—how do you two even know each other?”

Jason smiled, eyes shining as he and Roy shared a glance.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Jason simply said. He gestured towards the fridge where a six pack of Blue Moon was waiting to be cracked open. “If we’re gonna be telling stories of the good ‘ole days, I’m gonna need a drink.” Jason sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “You guys want one?”

“Jay, just bring out the whole sixer, it’s gonna be one of those nights,” Roy said. Jason flipped him off.

Dick chuckled, his gaze playful. “Is it that bad?”

Roy answered for Jason, wrapping his arm around Dick’s shoulders, and speaking into his ear, conspiratorial.

“Oh man, you got no _idea_.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Jason has a bit of a reputation in this part of town—none of it good, of course.”

“Hey Roy?” Jason asked. He came back into the living room and carefully placed the six pack in the middle of the table. Roy had collapsed back onto the couch, reaching out for a dark glass bottle and popping the cap with his teeth. His friend sighed with utter content as he took his first sip.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to let you know,” Jason began, deceptively pleasant, “Dick and I had sex on that couch, and I’m pretty sure you’re lying in what used to be the wet spot.”

Roy comically stilled, his face paling of any color. He carefully turned this way and that, appearing to reevaluate his entire life. Jason watched him with a little bit of sadistic amusement as Roy cleared his throat, and promptly removed himself to sit on the floor. Dick flushed but didn’t seem to mind Jason’s admittance. He laughed softly, his gaze sympathetic.

“Point taken,” Roy pouted. He shrugged and took a sip. “Okay, only good stories— _for now_.”

Jason hummed, entirely satisfied.

“It all started when I heard this shit-starter, predictably, talking shit…”

 

 

Gotham was picturesque in the winter.

From a distance, one could almost forget about all the seedy activities that took place beyond its stunning exterior and alluring skyline. Even now, as Jason looked out the passenger’s seat window of Dick’s Audi towards Gotham, he was struck by the beauty of his home town.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Dick’s voice brought him back. He reached over the console and placed his hand on Jason’s thigh, giving him a comforting squeeze. Jason watched Dick’s thumb brush back and forth over the new dress pants he’d bought just for this occasion. Sometimes, Jason still found himself in a state of shock that he and Dick were dating, that he could lean over, press a kiss to Dick’s lips, and it would be perfectly okay.

Jason’s gaze rose, meeting Dick’s own until the pressure of getting into a horrific car accident made him break their connection, focusing back on the road. Jason brazenly admired his profile in the low light, acknowledging Dick’s slow forming grin, and not caring in the slightest that he was acting like a love-struck fool with his first boyfriend.

If he could’ve, Jason would’ve looked at Dick forever.

“I’m thinking about you letting me drive on the way back,” Jason said. “I wanna see how fast this baby can go while I’m behind the wheel.”

Dick laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Do you even have your license on you?” Dick asked, skeptical. “What are you going to do if we get stopped by the police?”

Jason huffed, amused.

“You can always bat those baby blues,” Jason coyly suggested, “I’m sure they’d get off—I mean, let us off.”

Dick gave Jason’s thigh a playful swat.

“You’re such a little shit.”

Jason just grinned, leaning back into his seat as he spread his legs wide, delighting in the feeling of how Dick slid his hand further up his thigh with the movement.

“Hey, watch it,” Jason warned, voice velvety. “I don’t want to be sporting a hard-on when we get to your pop’s place. He already hates me, and I don’t need to give him any more reasons why he’d want to hire a hitman to murder me.”

“Jason, baby,” they’d had this conversation several times now, “Bruce doesn’t hate you. He’s just,” Dick paused for the right words, “he’s just—he’s _Bruce_.” Dick finished lamely.

Jason just blinked at him.

“Well, shit. Thank you, Captain Obvious. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when he’s glaring daggers at me while we’re both getting drunk off eggnog.” Jason perked suddenly as an idea came to him. “You think I could get high off the fumes of mistletoe if I sniffed it hard enough? There should be plenty of that around the house this time of year, right? Alfred seems like the type of guy who would sneak a few here and there.”

Dick chanced an incredulous look towards Jason, frowning. “It’s not gonna be _that_ bad.”

“Well, whatever does happen,” Jason began, “the food’s worth any amount of discomfort…and you. You’re worth it.” His fingers fit in-between the spaces of Dick’s, giving his hand a fond squeeze. He smiled, smug, at Dick’s enamored expression.

“Yeah,” Jason sighed. “You’re worth it.”


End file.
